A.N. ... because I know some of you are sitting by your computers hitting refresh every 38 seconds to see if this comes up...

CHAPTER 4

When Inara didn’t show up for lunch, Kaylee decided to use the excuse to stop by her shuttle again. Inara had asked her to come back later after all. As soon as she entered the shuttle, Kaylee knew something was off. The room was filled with the scent of soothing lavender, but the walls that were once covered with curtains and tapestries were stripped bare. Most of the fabric was folded neatly on the bed and a few trunks stood open, half full. Inara sat at the vanity, powdering over the puffiness of her tear-reddened eyes. Tentatively, Kaylee came forward, placing a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. Inara cringed and turned quickly, covering the reaction by standing up and preparing some tea. “‘Nara, what is this?” Kaylee asked, frightened to hear the answer, her mind racing, filled with a thousand thoughts. Inara sat down on the couch, motioning Kaylee to sit too. “I wanted to tell you, before you found out some other way… I’m leaving Serenity.” “You’re leaving?” Kaylee repeated incredulously, jumping to her feet again, her heart overwhelmed with dread and disbelief. “When? Where?” “I haven’t confirmed it yet,” Inara answered. “I’ve sent out a few waves. I’m waiting to hear back.” “But why?” Kaylee cried, falling to her knees before Inara, her pleading eyes searching for answers. “It’s the Captain ain’t it? He said something. He did something?! Oh, ‘Nara, he didn’t mean it!” “No, it’s … well, maybe a little, but this last client… I just need to stop doing this for awhile.” “Well, can’t you take your sabbatical here?” Kaylee asked hopefully. Inara smiled endearingly, taking Kaylee’s hands, pulling her up off her knees and bringing her to the couch instead. Once Kaylee was there, she could see Inara trembling, looking ghastly in the harsh shuttle light. No more fancy oils, no more relaxing nights having her hair played at. She was losing her big sister. Kaylee went in for a hug and felt Inara flinch again, so she pulled back. “What is it?” she asked Inara, tearfully concerned. It wasn’t like Inara to shirk physical contact. “I’m just a little sensitive… this last client…” That was the second time she’d brought him up and stopped. “Was he rough?” “A little,” Inara smiled, ducking her head dismissively. “I really can’t discuss it. Guild rules.” “So take a break if you need it,” Kaylee whispered softly, holding both of Inara’s hands in hers. “Take it here. No reason to leave.” “Kaylee, I –” Inara started, but didn’t know where to go. She hugged Kaylee consolingly, desperately clinging to composure. “I’ll miss you.”

*~*

The euphoric effect of the morning workout waned and as afternoon crept by, Jayne felt himself drawn to the cargo bay again. Mattie looked out from the hallway, glowering, arms folded, steam rising from her head. Jayne ignored her, finding a free-weight and starting a bicep curl. He could feel her angry eyes on him and before he knew it, she was running towards him. The spar was not something he’d intended, but he had enough pent up frustration to meet it. She caught him by the waist, forcing a grunt as he fell backwards, dropping the free-weight on the floor. Taking her into a role, Jayne twisted her arm, but she was spry and apparently double-jointed, twisting free effortlessly. Mattie threw a punch, catching him squarely in the jaw, then pulled him into a sleeper hold. He flipped her easily. The world as he knew it ceased to exist. There was only this fight, this moment, fueled with the anger of his entire past. Of his mother’s death, of his wife’s death, of his daughter alive… Mattie bit his arm and ripped at the bandages Kaylee had placed on his hand the night before. So much rage. He couldn’t control her. Never could. His mother’s body fell before his eyes, covered in blood, hand reaching out, begging him to come home. Come home before she was gone forever. Pennies over her eyes. Lowered into the ground. She was gone, never coming back. And she’d died alone. Forgive me, mother! Forgive me! Roaring with rage, Jayne tossed Mattie against the wall. Before he could be concerned for her, she rolled and sprang, launching herself at him, letting loose a shriek of her own. He’d left her. Never expected her to come looking for him. Not after what he’d done to her. Not after her mother died. Slam! Jayne was caught at the knees and buckled to the ground, his head splitting on a bulkhead, his shoulder wrenched as she held his arm while he fell. Jayne turned and kicked her away, using the force of both legs. He gasped for breath; she tackled him again. Tackle, roll, hit, wrench, slam. Mother, forgive me! She took Mattie from him, held her, begged to know what had happened. Why was she broken? Where are you going? Baby girl, head buried in gramma’s shoulder. Would she ever remember him as anything but a monster? Jayne leaned heavily against the bulkhead on the side of the cargo bay, swaying in and out of consciousness, unsure of how he arrived in this particular position. Mattie’s head was in his lap, her eyes closed, her body slowly relaxing as Jayne stroked her coarse, black hair. Breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Brushing a sweat-soaked lock from her forehead, he looked at his little girl, giving a short tug at the sleeve of her camisole so it didn’t show quite so much cleavage. Tenderly, he touched the bruise on her cheek. “Hope I didn’t hurt you too much.” “I think you sprained my wrist,” she answered. Jayne’s brow furrowed with guilt. “And I think you wrenched my shoulder. Suppose we should find the Doc?” “Not just yet.” Jayne’s head fell back, absorbing the peace of the moment, her words like aloe on the burn of his anger. What magical stillness the moment had. He couldn’t explain. But he never wanted it to end.

*~*

Mal was on his way to the bridge when he noticed Inara on the high catwalk, leaning against the wall, looking as though she’d rather be alone. And he would have left her alone, had it not been the first time he’d seen her in days. She ducked her head when he came toward her, but he could see her eyes were red and puffy, as though she’d been crying. “I see you told Kaylee ‘bout you leavin’,” Mal opened softly, leaning casually on the wall next to her. Kaylee had been pounding, teary-eyed at the engine, not speaking to him for the last half hour, even when he offered her a budget for new parts. Inara didn’t seem too talkative either. He spared her a glance, and she looked like she was fighting for composure underneath her veil. “You alright?” “Fine. I’m just…” She trailed off, touching her lip with the back of her hand. Was she shaking? “You haven’t ventured out much lately.” “I’ve been packing,” she dismissed. “Taking things down.” “You decided on a place then?” “A Training House on Kerry. I’d be teaching.” “Last client must’ve worked you pretty hard to drive you out of field work,” Mal joked, hoping to illicit that stern glare that would assure him she was okay. He didn’t get it. A brief flash of horror crossed her eyes, but she masked it quickly, mustering up an expressionless breath for composure. “You sure –?” Concerned, he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched and retracted like he’d touched her with a hot brand. She always retracted when he touched her, but never like this. So surprised he couldn’t finish his sentence, he just stared at her. “I have,” she started softly, backing toward her shuttle, as though he had the plague. “... a wave I need to send.” Mal stayed frozen in surprise for a few moments, then headed for the bridge deciding to eavesdrop on whatever wave she may be sending, on the off chance it wasn’t just an excuse. If it was, maybe he’d go to her shuttle and check on her… maybe. He sent Wash on a break, hoping that would buy him some amount of time. When he tapped into Inara’s conversation, it was mostly small talk, and he listened vaguely, feeling guilty, but mostly soaking in the sound of her voice. He shouldn’t be listening in on this. Wasn’t interesting. Weren’t any of his – He froze, hearing the words ‘black mark’ fall from Inara’s lips. Immediately remembering Atherton, he felt a stab of pain in his side at the memory. The world fell away as he listened intently and Inara described in detail what had taken place on the world they’d just left. Watching her become unmasked, he realized that what he’d mistook for tear-reddened eyes was an actual injury and he felt like an ass for the comment he’d made about her last client. When the conversation ended, he stared at the empty screen in shock. After a few minutes passed, heartbeats, and heavy breathing, anger started to rise, his face was red, and his body sprang from the chair, pacing the small room, looking for something to punch. “Mal? Is something wrong?” Wash asked, coming into the room with a handful of food snacks. “Yes,” Mal growled, gripping the console, trying to see through the bleeding red anger. “Do we have time to swing back to Persephone?” Wash laughed incredulously. “Did you forget something?” “There’s someone I owe an unkind pummeling.” “Our plans get us back there in about a month,” Wash offered, keeping his distance. “Don’t want to wait that long to settle this debt.” “Mal, it’s just a fist in the face. How does that sour?” Mal suddenly leapt, pushing Wash against the wall, eyes on fire, ready to kill. Wash hardly flinched. Since Zoë, he’d rarely found Mal threatening. “If I turn around, we lose this job,” Wash explained matter-of-factly. “But if it’s that important…” “No. Do the job. I’ll find another way.” The moment was over. The fire left Mal’s eyes and he released Wash’s collar. Wash smoothed his shirt and took his seat. Zoë came in as Mal stalked out. “Captain,” she began, but he brushed past her. When she started to follow, Wash grabbed her arm and shook his head.

*~*

Simon wasn’t surprised when Mattie was just as poor a patient as Jayne. She groused as he applied the splint to her hand, then stalked out the moment he turned to treat Jayne’s shoulder. River sat on the side bed, one leg dangling over the edge as she watched him work. “How are you two related?” Simon asked. Jayne didn’t answer. He just stared out the door, giving only the slightest grunt as Simon tested the range of motion of his injured shoulder. “Daughter,” River said softly, earning a stiff glare from Jayne. “She’s your daughter?” Simon repeated, as if that explained everything. “You don’t sound surprised,” Jayne grumbled. “I guess I’m not.” “We that much alike?” he asked. Simon was surprised by the soft vulnerability in Jayne’s question. “Spitting image,” River smiled warmly. Jayne looked at her, and then looked through the door Mattie had just walked out, shaking his head. “Strange… all I see is her mother.” “What happened to her?” “Hmm?” “Her mother,” Simon prompted, but Jayne had closed off again, that hint of humanism falling from his face, that annoyed sneer rising on his lips. “Died,” River spoke up ominously. “Shuttle accident. Mattie was two.” “I’m sorry, Jayne.” “You didn’t – ” Jayne shrugged, then winced as Simon put pressure on the rotator cuff. “Ai ya!” “You were pretty young when you had her, then?” “Sixteen,” River answered quickly, leaning forward, swinging both legs over the side of the counter. “Shove it, Crazy!” “Sixteen?” Simon ignored Jayne’s violent outburst, turning sardonically to his records. “Then one of you is lying about your age.” “Look who you’re talkin’ at, Doc.” “So probably both?” Jayne shrugged Simon off and stalked out of the room, determining that he would make his own prescription for healing. He bumped shoulders with Mal in the corridor and let loose a string of curses as he headed up the stairs. Mal entered the Infirmary, looking ready to hit someone, and Simon briefly wished he’d opted for Jayne. River cringed a little as Mal paced and Simon went to place a hand on his sister’s shoulder. Mal was touching all the drawer handles, itching to tear someone’s limbs off, but was forced to settle with words. “Captain?” Simon prompted. The sound seemed to force Mal’s energy into rational thought and he visibly calmed. “Hey Doc, would you mind checking in on Inara?” “I can,” Simon answered cautiously, wondering if Mal knew something of what happened. Inara had made it clear to him that she had no intention of telling the crew. “Why do you ask?” “She hasn’t been out much since the last client.” “I have noticed. I can look in on her.” Mal lingered, fidgeting as Simon busied himself straightening the Infirmary. “Sooner would be better,” Mal managed, clearly upset. “Is there something aside from antisocial behavior that has prompted this?” Simon pressed. “Yes, I...” Mal trailed off, and Simon became more certain that he did know what had happened to Inara. “It’s not something I’m at liberty to disclose. Has she come to you?” “That’s not something I’m at liberty to disclose. But I will look in on her,” Simon responded coolly, and started toward the shuttle. He paused a moment, holding his breath, wanting desperately to know what the Captain knew… or at least, wanting the comfort of knowing Inara had finally opened up to someone. “Captain, if she’s spoken to you, then it’s your help she wants. Not mine.”

*~*

Kaylee had pounded out the dent in his wall and helped him bracket the bed back into place. Once that was together, Jayne started cleaning and straightening the rest of the room, setting all the guns right in their holds, making the bed, tucking the corners in neat, stacking all the laundry in a single pile. That evening, Jayne massaged his sore shoulder, figuring he’d hit Mattie and the Doc in a single trip downstairs. His workouts would start getting a little lopsided so long as his left shoulder was out. Mattie seemed fine after their match in the cargo bay. Just fine. So long as he only saw her for the woman she was now, and not the little girl she’d been, he could imagine … He didn’t want to remember that past. Didn’t want to remember the day he left her. Didn’t want to remember how he used to hold her and sing her to sleep. Jayne wasn’t good with kids. Wasn’t good with people. Needed to keep them all at arm’s length. That’s where they were safest. Just out of reach of his fist. When he knocked on Mattie’s door, she quickly signed off the cortex and turned to face him. Did she look guilty? Jayne hadn’t known her long enough to read her properly. She was probably just surprised to see him. “Hey, Mattie, I wanted to say goodnight.” She stood quickly, shoving her handheld cortex-linking-device-thingy under her pillow as she approached him. The move made him all manner of suspicious. “Goodnight then.” “Who you talkin’ to?” he asked. “No one.” She started to close the door, but he stopped her. The move shot a throbbing ache through his shoulder, but Jayne wouldn’t abide being lied to. “What are you up to?” he pressed, threateningly. “I’m handling the estate,” she said smoothly, walking away from the door as though she’d already closed it. “Something you couldn’t be bothered with.” She’d turned into ice again, her words biting at his already fragile and frayed emotions. Jayne felt his chest tighten, looking for a fresh fight to cover the grief. “What estate? What about it?” “Certain items. The house. The furniture.” “You’re selling my house?!” “It’s not yours,” she retorted coolly. “Besides, neither of us are returning to that gou shi world.” “I am. Few weeks time, the Captain is stopping me by there. What needs handling?” “There’s nothing there,” she carped and Jayne grabbed her by the elbow. “There’s my mother. What’d you do? Wrap her in a sheet and roll her body in the lake?” She slapped him so hard across the face he saw stars. “How dare you!” Mattie nearly screamed. “She asked you to come, and you didn’t. You didn’t even come to say good-bye to her!” “I didn’t know she was dyin’!” “You didn’t listen! She told you! I told you!” “Where’s she buried.” “Not buried. Burned. I released her ashes in low orbit. She said she wanted to be close to you,” Mattie spat, shaking her arm free, and then grumbling, “Though I can’t imagine why.” Jayne roared and lunged toward her but she reached out swiftly twisting his arm and pinching his injured shoulder. Now instead of just a few stars, his vision was starting to go black as the pain enveloped him. Briefly, he wondered if she hated him enough to kill him, but her voice cut through his swimming consciousness with a sweetness not consistent with her grip on his arm. “You’ve said your goodnight. Perhaps you should go now.”

*~*

After his conversation with Mattie, Jayne didn’t feel like sleeping, so he sat in his moon-chair and inventoried his ammo. Keep busy. Don’t think. Keep the fingers moving, focused on little tasks. Don’t think. Don’t. Kaylee climbed down the ladder to his bunk under the pretense of collecting some tools she’d left behind, but she was armed with needle and thread and set straight to work re-capitating the unfortunate turtle. She sat on the bed, wrinkling the blanket, legs folded, face still red and puffy. She’d broken down crying in the middle of supper for no good reason and looked like she hadn’t stopped since. Jayne figured the only reason she wasn’t crying now was because she was sewing up that gorram turtle. Keeping busy. Trying not to think on whatever it was that plagued her. But Jayne could use a sob story that wasn’t his own, and he couldn’t stand sitting in silence. “Why you been cryin’ all day, girl?” “It’s … Inara,” Kaylee answered softly, wincing as she inadvertently stuck herself with the needle. “She got roughed up pretty bad,” Jayne agreed, glad someone had noticed. “No, she’s…” Kaylee trailed off, looking confused. “Well, I said I wouldn’t say. Why … do you say she got roughed up?” Jayne kept silent, realizing that Kaylee hadn’t noticed. He’d seen Inara come out of her shuttle when he and Mattie were sparring, and Jayne had seen enough beaten women to know. “She wasn’t beat,” Kaylee denied, when Jayne said nothing. “Not Inara. I was lookin’ right at her. She’d have told me.” “Suppose so,” Jayne dismissed, his mind stewing over what other secret Inara might have spilled. “So Mattie’s your daughter?” Kaylee brought up, her voice resuming that mysteriously boundless cheer. Jayne grunted. “You talked about Mattie before. Guess I just assumed it was your little brother.” “Who’d name a boy Mattie?” Jayne balked. “Who’d name a boy Jayne?” Kaylee goaded. Were she a man, Jayne would’ve hit her, but she was Kaylee, so he just grunted and started putting his ammo boxes away. The only thing he really had left were tranqs, which were too civil to be used in normal violence. All the real ammo was pretty much used up. “Li’l Kaylee, how many nights you fixin’ to sleep here?” “‘Til I know you’re okay,” she answered simply, finishing the turtle and giving it a hug. Jayne could still see where it had been singed before, the night he first got the thing. Kaylee’s repair was much cleaner than his had been. “When will that be?” “Probably when you try somethin’ unseemly,” Kaylee teased, pinching his thigh as a demonstration. “That’s a dangerous game, girl,” Jayne warned, wishing the conversation would end. Suddenly his mind started spiraling in places he didn’t want to be. “You best leave before I damage you beyond repair.” “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you Jayne?” she asked innocently. When he didn’t respond, she started to look concerned and batted him with the turtle. “Would you?” Jayne raked his fingers through his hair and looked ashamedly at his knees, images of a four-year-old Mattie flying through his mind like ghosts through a wall. “No tellin’ what I might do.” “Jayne?” Mattie was screaming at him, begging him to stop. Her little face was contorted with fear as she backed away from him. He could see her now, but then, all he saw was his wife, two years dead, and red. Lots of red. “I didn’t mean to,” Jayne blurted out, his voice urgent and pained. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. Didn’t mean to break her?” “You mean Mattie? She’s fine. Y’all were just sparring.” Kaylee didn’t understand. She was caught in the present. In that afternoon. But Jayne could feel the past coming back to haunt him. The cold air. The panic. Desperately, he tried to explain. “She’s fine now. Now she can fight back.” “Jayne, talk sense.” “She hates me,” Jayne moaned, clawing his scalp, trying to pull out the convicting eyes of his baby girl. “I see it in her face.” “Maybe she’s angry, but she doesn’t –” “Hates me for leavin’ her, but I had to. I couldn’t…” Kaylee stayed quiet a moment, realizing that Jayne wasn’t hearing anything. Finally she reached out a hand, bridging the space between them and touched his knee. “It’s okay.” Not this memory! Please, send it away. Keep silent. Don’t talk. Don’t speak it to truth. Don’t – “What kind of man beats his own kid?” Jayne started to shake with self-revulsion, desperately trying to banish the memory. “Can listen to her cryin’ for mercy and can’t stop himself. I was just so blind-angry ‘bout her mom, but it ain’t no excuse. My mother was the only safe place I could think to take her.” He remembered how panicked he became when he came to his senses and saw his baby girl crying, clutching a broken arm. But her eyes weren’t accusing him, they were begging him for help. He’d grabbed her quickly, rushing her to safety, handing her over to his mother. “Please, mother, take her.” “Jayne, what happened?” “Mother, she’s not safe with me. What if…? I can’t do this to her.” “Then don’t, Jayne –” she began, but he’d run upstairs to his childhood room and locked the door. “You did right, Jayne,” Kaylee’s whisper cut through the horror. “You kept her safe.” “Ain’t safe for her here. And I’m fresh out of mothers.” Jayne couldn’t help it. The grief for his mother poured over the pain of the memory, and for the second time in two days, Kaylee was watching him cry. Somehow, he didn’t find that too humiliating. Kaylee tugged on his hand, bringing him next to her on the bed so she could give him a hug. Fresh tears fell off Kaylee’s face, tickling the back of Jayne’s neck, as she cried with him. “All I done to forget. To drown her screams, but I still hear her. She ain’t safe here.”

*~*

* Chapter 5